


Somewhere I Have Never Travelled

by niklitera



Series: Nobody, Not Even the Rain, Has Such Small Hands [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Bisexual Evie Frye, Canonical Transgender Character, Coming out kinda?, Drunk Jacob Frye, Drunk confessions, Evie is an incredible human being, Henry doesn't even know but he doesn't care, Homoromantic Jacob Frye, Internalized Homophobia, It's the first time they talk about it, Jacob is a dork, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Slash, The Frye Twins Bond!, Trashed Twin Talk, drunk talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 13:52:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5336441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niklitera/pseuds/niklitera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evie knew, as soon as Jacob stumbled into the wagon, that he had something to tell her. She did not expect it to be about Ned Wynert.</p><p>(or that time Jacob cames to the train drunk off his ass to rant about his crush on Ned)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere I Have Never Travelled

**Author's Note:**

> This is the very first i am 1) posting an assassin's creed fic and 2) posting something which belongs to an era where i could really fuck up how they talk. My native language is spanish, i am not a native english speaker, and i do not belong in the late 19th Century England. So pardon me if i made a few mistakes.
> 
> Also, let it be known that a lot of things that are in this series is a POINT OF VIEW from a 19TH CENTURY mind. I am transgender, but so are a lot of other people, and we all have different views in how we manage, fix and get through the bumps left in our road. There will be transphobic talk later on, when Jacob finds out, both from Jacob and Ned BECAUSE none of them know shit about it! And Jacob doesn't mean to be offensive and Ned will say a lot of shit based on gender roles. It is not how I think, I repeat, it is not how I think.
> 
> And Jacob's speech is drunken speech, if anyone must know. I couldn't resist. I quite love drunken Jacob, if I'm honest.
> 
> Also, I do not have a beta, so sorry for any errors! Finally, if you are into Wye, you should ABSOLUTELY check out thedi_WRECK_tor's oneshot because they are quite amazing, really. 
> 
> Now, please, enjoy!

There had been a time, as teenagers, when Jacob would get utterly smashed beyond capability. In those instances, Evie would coax him out of a fight, or away from a ring, or away from the streets, back into their home as quietly as possible while her brother murmured this or that under his breath. It was only when she was tucking him into bed, taking off his boots, that Jacob would sit up and look at her with impossibly sad eyes. He'd open his mouth, call her name in a strangled voice, and she would answer with a patient and kind 'yes?' only to see him shake his head and hear him say  _'s nothin', sis_.

And she got used to it. She knew he had something to tell her, a dumb secret he'd been keeping for a long time that he seemed to never be able to push out of his throat when his eyes met hers. Evie did put the pieces together, little by little. It came in the form of boys - very few and in-between, but boys nonetheless that she saw smiling at her brother from time to time when they visited that little dingy bar a few streets from their house. Jacob would ignore them, of course, especially when she was there, but she'd seen him. Drunk beyond reason, Jacob would do what could only be called  _flirting_ with them. 

At first Evie hadn't known how to approach him. Jacob seemed reserved and quite frightened about the issue, but he was pretty happy when he got to met a bloke or two while they weren't studying or practicing. So she let it pass, let it be known that it was okay, it was alright, at least to her. People spoke of sin and sodomy and a terrible curse that fell on those people who looked at another man like one would a woman. But Evie thought it was so - so  _silly_. How could such a pure thing as love, as happiness, be bad?

He eventually understood, the day she teased him about a little blonde who had been a bit more tactile than was decent. He'd snapped his eyes to hers, panicking silently under she rammed her elbow into his ribs and he'd doubled over, making her laugh wildly. Then it was Jacob who laughed, and also the one who cried, still doubled over. They'd leaned against each other and hadn't said a single word, but it seemed to be enough for Jacob. He didn't get so drunk anymore.

So now, at twenty-one years old, in London and with a book on her hands, Evie was surprised to see Jacob stumbling into her wagon, slurring something under his breath with a dreamy look on his face. She froze a little, watching his flushed cheeks and wide smile and unsteady feet. Henry chuckled from his own armchair.

"Oh, dear," he commented with a little smile. Evie had to grin, too.

"Evie!" her twin brother wobbled over to her. He was positively smashed. Tight as a boiled owl. She stood quickly to help him keep balance, having to grin at his gigglemug. He suddenly enveloped her in a very tight bear hug, and she used all her strength to keep him standing. "M' dearest sister!"

"I will go fetch a bit of water," Henry spoke, closing his book with a delicious smirk on his lips.

_ Your brother, Evie, focus. _

She helped him take a seat on the sofa, where she'd been previously resting, and he sprawled his huge self all over it, laughing lazily and beaming like a devil. She immediately placed her hands on her hips, adopting a stern look as she thought of what could possibly leave her twin in such a good mood.

"What have you done, Jacob?" she demanded.

"Me? What 'ave  _you_ done, uh" he let out a cheeky smile. 

"Did you explode something? Kill someone important?"

"No," that dreamy expression was back on his face. Jacob shut his eyes and it was only then that she realized what was going on.

"Brother?" she asked coily, smirking as she sat next to him. "Did you meet someone?"

His only response was to widen his grin.

"Did you do the bear with someone?" she punched his shoulder and he laughed, sitting properly to shake his head at her. "Did you kiss someone? Come on, Jacob! You never talk about these things and I want to know if my brother is in love!"

"No!" he shook his head, still slurring. "No, no, no, sister, I'm not in love. I do fancy the bloke, though. Spent th' whole day with 'im. 'Avin' a few drinks, and all."

"Wait, but weren't you doing one of the raids for Ned?" she frowned. "You look mad as hops, thou -"

Jacob was blushing. Not like those aristocratic women, who blushed and flushed anytime a man took more than a second to acknowledge them, no. Without his hat, under the warm lights of the train inside, she could see his cheeks blazing an unfamiliar deep shade of pink, his mouth slightly parted, his eyes sparkling. He was genuinely excited, genuinely happy. That had never happened, not when it came to romantic matters. He was reserved, and shameful, and a lot of times she'd caught him whispering terrible talk of himself. Yet now he was like a church-bell, wanting to tell her things about this man he fancied.

" _Ned_?!"

What she hadn't expected was for it to be Ned Wynert.

Jacob, at the mention of his name, had a smile breaking out yet again, and his heels bounced against the carpet. He looked positively giddy, and although it made her terribly happy to see him like that, she was still weary. Ned was... well, of course he was a friend, a trusty ally. But he was so  _queer._  His accent, his mannerisms, his curses and how grouchy he was most of the time. Not to forget, of course, how he could barely stand Jacob most of the time. They bickered, fought, argued and more than once had Ned raised his fist as if to strike her brother - not that he didn't deserve it, of course.

But she understood it now, could clearly see it. The teasing, the cockiness, the sometimes baffled look Jacob had when Ned waltzed inside their train and the times she'd seen him snatch his card from the desk, trying to be discreet. 

"You fancy Ned, brother?" she asked him after a moment of hesitation, and he sighed. Oh, he was _drunk_. "Truly? Since when?"

"Well," the brunet threw his arm over his eyes, that goofy expression still painted on his dumb face, and Evie crossed her arms and took a comfortable position. "I s'ppose I though' 'im 'andsome w'en we met 'im. He was all swagger an' winks and I though' oi! 'e's proper cute, y'know?"

"Why do you tease him so, then, brother?" she poked him in the stomach and he laughed a little. "You always annoy him. I thought that was why you were so keen on doing every assignment of Ned's. Now I know you were being a child in your flirtations!"

"'E likes 'em," he melted against the couch, happy and bright and Evie found herself appreciating Ned Wynert a little bit more than she usually did. "'E does, I tell you. I delivered som' cargo for 'im and I guess it was pr'tty imp'rtant because 'e got real excited 'bout it. So b'fore I know wha's 'appenin', he pulls out th's nice whiskey 'nd tells me tha' I brin' 'im luck. Can you imagine tha', Evie? Me? Ha!"

Jacob rubbed his face, his cheek, and Evie leaned against him. She started playing with his fingers as if they were children again, comfortable and not responsible for the entire fate of London and maybe the entire world.

"O' course, we start arguin' 'nd it's fun as 'ell because 'e's in a good mood and I adore 'is smile," this time his own is almost shy. "So we're drinkin' 'nd 'e's callin' me a bloody anarchist 'nd I juss," there's a pause right there, and Evie feels his chest stutter between a breath. "I wish I could tell 'im, Evie."

"Maybe you will one day, brother," She scratched his calloused tumb with her index nail. "He flirts with you alright, when he fights back. Doesn't wince as much when you touch him."

"What?" suddenly slightly sober, Jacob grinned at his sister. "Say wha' ag'n, Evie, dear?"

"You know that wince he does whenever someone is too close to him?" she turned to watch his face. He nodded, rolling his eyes at the thought. They'd talked about that before, and Jacob had tried to convince her that he ought he was just a cold blooded reptile deep inside. She now knew why he had been trying so hard to make her stop thinking of a possible trauma of the enterpreteur. "Well, he doesn't do it as much with you."

"Tha's 'cause I'm always touchin' 'im," he shrugged. "I'm a tactile person, Evie, y'know th's."

"Well," she smiled, lifting his chin up with delicate fingers and watching his clear eyes look at her with burning hope. "Perhaps you're wrong. Time will tell."

"And a bit of water for sobering up."

Jacob basically jumped from the sofa, stumbling until his back hit the door of the wagon and he had his hand on the pocket where he kept his knives. Evie looked at Henry, heart hammering inside her ribcage in the threat of being ripped out. The other assassin merely chuckled, balanced and calm with a mug of clear, crystal water. He offered it to Jacob, and the relief it brought upon Evie almost ashamed her. It was Henry - cultured, comprehensive, empathic Henry. Of course he'd understand.

"Thank you, Greenie," Jacob said, with hesitation clear in his voice, as if he was expecting Henry to yell at him that he was a sodomite. 

"I'd just rather go back to reading my book in peace, Mr. Frye. Your love matters are interesting, but my herbs await."

"I'm leaving," he turned, smashed his face against the door, opened it, pulled himself through and closed it behind him. When he was finally gone, Henry turned to Evie, who was grinning widely at him. "What are you smiling about, Ms. Frye?"

"You truly are a wonderful man, do you know that?" she looked away when his eyes softened.

"I suppose I do now," he replied.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Boiled owl: to be drunk, entoxicated  
> Gigglemug: grinning face  
> Do the bear: courting with hugging. Basically a heavy necking session, guys.
> 
> So my headcanons are:
> 
> Jacob Frye: demisexual, pansexual, homoromantic  
> Evie Frye: heterosexual, biromantic  
> Ned Wynert: bisexual, biromantic  
> Henry: ...kinda sapioromantic? Sapiosexual? I'll go with that


End file.
